New Beginnings
by Little.D.526
Summary: After an eternity of waiting, Merlin finally finds what-or rather, who- he's been waiting for, and with it, he hopes to bring about the resurrection of King Arthur; but why is the young girl so important? What is it about her specifically that caused her life to intertwine so deeply with that of the Once and Future King?
1. Prologue

A crisp breeze made the autumn leaves tumble across the muddy sidewalk. It had been raining for the past few days, leaving the dirt a caky, slimy mess. Light from the stars and the fading moon glimmered across the early morning dew. An old man hobbled awkwardly up the cobblestone pathway to his front door. Grass grew in lush green patches across the front lawn, leaving the atmosphere with an unkempt feeling.

The building itself was nothing admirable, either. Cracked bricks smushed together made the rather boring one-story building look as old as the man. The roof's shingles were beaten and worn, with several missing in certain areas. Pieces of a waterproof tarp were duct-taped crudely over the holes in the roof. All of the windows were covered. The front door- painted an awful lemon yellow- was grimy and pathetic; it's paint peeling.

The old man picked up a soggy newspaper thrown carelessly onto his patchy lawn, and stuffed it into his leather messenger bag. He hobbled the rest of the way to his front door, fumbling through his pockets in search of his key. He mumbled to himself as he unlocked the door and stepped inside. The air indoors was considerably warmer, and yet the old man shivered. He took off his messenger bag and tossed it gently onto the broken and faded orange couch directly to his right. He kicked off his shoes and walked over to the kitchen (on his left).

"What do I have, hm?" he asked no one in particular; eyes scanning the contents of his fridge. Leftover Chinese takeout, a carton of expired milk, and a few suspicious-looking fruits stared at him. Sighing, he grabbed an apple and the Chinese food. Shoving the takeout into his grimy microwave, he looked at the apple in his hands. His eyes glowed gold and the bruises on the apple faded away. "That's MUCH better, now isn't it?"

There was a noise, quiet and almost indiscernible, coming from behind him. Setting the apple on the countertop, he turned around. He knew better than to call, "Hello?", but he found he couldn't resist a good old-fashioned "Who's there?"

When he received no reply, he closed his eyes. Listening carefully, he used a small amount of magic to enhance his hearing. The faint sound of shaky breaths and chattering teeth greeted his ears. It floated on the air lightly, like a butterfly's kiss, leaving an invisible trail to his bedroom.

"I know you're there. I can hear you," he called, walking towards his room. In the dark, it was hard to see, but the closer he got, the easier it was to notice the shivering shadow hiding in the corner. "You've no need to fear me. Come out where I can see you properly, why don't you?"

The shadow moved, ever so slowly, into the light. A young girl, no older than seven, cowered before him. A dirty dress hung off her bony frame; a mess of ringlets framed her face; her skin was dirty, but it was obvious she had naturally light-caramel-colored skin. Her twig-like arms were wrapped tightly around her waist, turning her knuckles white.

The old man pitied her. "Are you hungry?"

It was a few moments before she nodded.

"Would you like some food?"

The response came faster this time.

"Well, come on then, child. I've got some. Not much, mind you, but enough to sustain you for a while." he smiled, holding a hand out to her. She stood uncomfortably before him, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "Alright, well I'll go finish making it. You come into the kitchen whenever you're ready."

His hand dropped to his side and he shuffled over to the kitchen. He took the takeout out of the microwave and pulled two paper plates out of one of the creaky cabinets. He looked over his shoulder. The young girl's head peered out of the bedroom doorway. Seeing him, it vanished quickly. Silently chuckling, he divided the lo mein onto the plates, with one plate holding more than the other.

A small, rickety, oak table was pushed up against the wall. The old man brought the two plates over to the table, along with chopsticks for himself, and a fork for the girl. He took the plate with the smaller portion for himself, sitting down and beginning to eat.

A minute later the girl creeped out of the bedroom. The old man continued to eat, watching her approach the table through his periphery. She climbed up onto the dining chair and picked up the fork. He watched her look at the plate before her; eyes wide at the amount of food on it. He smiled to himself.

Once he'd finished eating, he sat back and watched the girl. She devoured the plate as if it would be the last she'd see for a long time to come. It made the old man sad.

"My name is Mer-" he began; catching himself. He shouldn't risk using that name. He cleared his throat, "Murray. My name is Murray."

The girl only briefly glanced up at him, lo mein clinging to her chin.

"You've a name?" he asked her once she began to slow down. She nodded. He waited.

"Ariel." her voice was tiny, like a mouse, and tired.

"That's a pretty name." he commented. She looked down at her plate and shrugged. "Do you not like it?"

"I don't like the people that gave it to me." she muttered, twirling the last few noodles on her plate with her fork.

"Your parents?"

She shook her head. "I don't have those."

Pity swelled in the old man's chest. "Who, then?"

She frowned, and the twirling became quicker; angrier. He could tell she wasn't going to tell him.

"Would you like to stay with me?" he asked, although he wasn't sure where the words came from. Her head shot up, and she looked at him with big, periwinkle eyes. "You don't have to if you don't want to."

She just continued to stare.

"I could give you a new name? Then you wouldn't have to remember those people." he tried. He was beginning to get a funny feeling that this was meant to happen; that this wasn't a chance encounter.

"What name?" she asked, ceasing to twirl the Chinese noodles.

"You pick." It was a hunch; or maybe a test.

Ariel thought for a moment; tilting her head. "Gwen."

"Another lovely name." he nodded, trying to extinguish the little spark of hope igniting in his brain. It had to be a coincidence. The young girl smiled. "So, Gwen, will you stay with me, and let me take care of you?"

A small smile crept onto Gwen's face. She nodded.

Murray smiled; had this been what-or rather, who-he'd been waiting for all this time? He couldn't be sure, but he knew that, nonetheless, a great adventure had just begun.

* * *

_Hello, Beautifuls!_

_Long time no see, huh? Sorry about that. I haven't been able to work much on Maria, due to a raging case of apathy and writer's block. I'm working out the kinks, though, and am slowly prepping myself to get back to writing it, no worries. _

_Anywho, I fell in love with yet another british television show, and got this idea for a fanfiction! I wrote this a long while ago (around New Year's) and sent it to a beta, but my beta is a very busy human being, and so I decided to post it, about three months later. I like what I've got so far ( i know I say this every time). I have been writing a lot lately, though, thanks to a terrible school schedule and random bursts of inspiration. I've even got a story going on FictionPress (Little.D.526) that i've posted once a week on! I've got four chapters up so far, if you would like to check it out. _

_I am not writing this on my school computer for those of you who do read the FictionPress story. I'm writing this somewhere I will be able to access and work on it consistently throughout my spring break. For those of you who don't: My new school gives out laptops, but they are not very good laptops, and mine refuses to charge. I was able to transfer my writing to a flash drive, and so I have everything saved on my FictionPress story, but it means that my writing may slow down a bit until i can get it fixed. It shouldn't affect this story so much, but it may in the future, if it refuses to cooperate ever. _

_Okay, well, I'll go now. I love you all! Remember: reviews are much appreciated, as are questions, concerns, criticisms, comments, et cetera. _

_Hugs and butterfly Kisses, _

_Little.D_


	2. Eight Years Later

8 years later:

"Murray?" she called, walking through the front door of the old house and tossing her backpack onto the sofa. When she received no reply, she walked over to Murray's room and poked her head in. "Murray?"

He wasn't there. Huffing, she ran patted down her curly golden hair and put her other hand on her hip. Where could he be? Certainly not in the garden. He never went there. The sunlight usually gave him a bad burn and a headache. The house certainly wasn't big enough for him to simply have not heard her, so she spun on her heels and walked outside, grabbing her cell phone on the way.

As soon as she stepped outside, a thought popped into her mind. Just a little ways down the road was a big lake . He always looked at the lake like he had some connection with it. Whenever Gwen asked him about it, he smiled and said, "Don't you know? A great man once died there; a king." This was usually followed with a story about King Arthur and his life.

King Arthur was his illness, she decided, taking her time as she walked along the road towards the big expanse of water. Those Arthurian legends swarmed around in poor Murray's mind twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Gwen was certain that, if she asked him if he'd lived through them, he'd have said yes; that's how absorbed in them he was. It was like he had somehow gotten himself tangled in a mess of words and impossible things, and he didn't even try to get himself out of it. With regards to those legends, he was a lost cause.

Pulled out of her thoughts by an oncoming car, Gwen jumped onto the curb and continued to walk. The lake wasn't much farther ahead. In fact, she could see it. What she couldn't see, however, was old man Murray. As she approached the water, she looked around for any sign of him. After a few minutes of searching, she noticed something moving closer to the water, near a few of the trees. Her hand shielded her eyes from the sun and she tried to see better.

"Murray?" she called, walking down the little hill towards the figure. Sure enough, the old man turned around and beamed at her.

When she was close enough, and he wouldn't have to shout, Murray spoke, "Hello, Gwen."

"Good afternoon, Murray." she greeted, "I thought you might be down here."

"Am I that easy to figure out?"

"Fortunately for me, yes."

They stood in silence for a moment, watching the water tumble and roll over itself in a race to nowhere. It was hot out, but a nice breeze blew close to the water, keeping the duo from overheating. Murray sat in the grass, and patted a spot beside him. Gwen walked over and plopped down next to him.

"How was school?"

"Good, I suppose. It wasn't much different from any other day. We had a test in History."

"Was there anything on the Once and Future King?" he inquired, studying her from the corner of his eye.

"No, not this time, and most likely not any of the future times, either. They don't really cover legends in school, Murray, but if they did, you know I'd get an A."

"Perhaps I should go and talk to your history teachers; tell them about the benefits of covering those points in history."

"You know just as well as I do that no one at that school takes you seriously. I hate to say it because I love you, but it's true. "

Murray sighed, "I know."

A duck flew down and landed on the lake, quacking rather vociferously. It shoved its head underwater, looking for food. When it surfaced again, it shook the water from its feathers and eyed the pair of them curiously, as if they were aliens.

"We don't have any bread; sorry!" Gwen called. The duck quacked back at her and paddled furiously in the opposite direction. Gwen smiled, a soft laugh resting in the back of her throat. She swallowed it down and looked over at her guardian, watching him study the water. "Would you tell me a story?"

"Of course." Murray smiled, happy to have an excuse to share more Arthurian lore. Gwen fell onto her back and closed her eyes, listening as Murray described the wizard Merlin's first encounter with Arthur- back when Arthur was just the prince, and not the king. It was a great story, and Gwen found herself, as always, entranced with the way Murray told it. The imagery he provided was very specific, which allowed her to feel as if she were being transported back to that very moment in time.

After Murray was finished, Gwen applauded him. She kept her eyes shut, and stayed on her back, enjoying the wonderful afternoon. "How do you always make it sound so real?"

With her eyes shut, she didn't see the pang of sadness that suddenly painted his face. He inhaled through his nose, trying to find an acceptable way to answer. "I suppose I love them so much I feel I know exactly how it happened."

She didn't have to ask what he meant by 'them'; she knew he meant the legends. She nodded silently. She heard Murray get up, and knew it was time to leave. She opened her eyes to find the sky bleeding the colors of the sunset, and was surprised by them. Had that much time really passed? She looked at Murray questioningly. He nodded.

"We'd better head back; I'm sure you have homework, and I should go pick up some dinner, eh?" Murray adjusted the leather messenger bag at his side and looked at her expectantly.

"Yeah, we should." she agreed, slowly standing up. They walked back to their tiny home together in peaceful silence; the crickets beginning to chirp their evening songs and the air swirling lazily around them. They were two souls- one heavy with grief, and one light with naivety- and things were about to change.

* * *

_Howdy! _

_I know it's been a little longer than originally planned, but here is chapter two! I've got a lovely beta now, and with their help I was able to write and get this up for you super quick (after a little while of forgetting i'd posted this. oops.)! I hope you like this chapter!_

_Remember-reviews, concerns, comments, questions, etc. are all welcomed with open arms, so don't be shy! _

_Hugs and Butterfly Kisses, _

_Little.D_


	3. Syla

Gwen was not a Thursday person. In fact, she despised them; something bad always happened on Thursdays, aside from the abnormal speed with which the day usually passed- dragging on and on.

It was the last class of the day, and she was excited to be going home. She looked at the clock impatiently; mentally willing time to hurry. She had no interest in learning about Algebra 2. She had already passed Algebra 1; why should she need to pass it again? Her teacher droned on, explaining in as little detail as possible how to solve a word problem or something. She wasn't paying much attention.

"Yes, Gwen?" her teacher looked over at her over his rectangular glasses. Gwen stared in confusion before realizing her hand was raised.

"Oh, um, I was wondering if I could go to the restroom?" she asked.

"You know where the passes are; you have seven minutes."

"Thank you, sir."

"Yes, yes. Now, class-" he sighed before turning back to the other students, all of whom looked more than a little bored. Gwen even spied one - a particularly studious student- drooling onto their hand in 'hidden' sleep. She couldn't suppress the small smile that crept across her lips as she grabbed the hall pass and left the room.

The restroom was at the other end of the hall, and Gwen took as much time walking there as she could. While _technically_ she only had seven minutes of freedom, she knew her teacher wasn't going to bother searching for her if she was a little late. She might get in trouble, but she highly doubted it'd be anything worse than a slight scolding in front of the class; something everyone went through on a fairly regular basis (no one particularly enjoyed Algebra- 1 or 2).

She turned into the girl's bathroom and walked directly to one of the mirrors. She didn't have any makeup to apply, but that certainly didn't mean she couldn't check to make sure everything looked alright. Her golden corkscrew curls were especially messy today, and Gwen found herself blaming Thursday. She sighed to herself and attempted to tame the mane by combing through them with her fingers; but that didn't work out very well, considering her fingers got tangled in knots of hair multiple times. She frowned in frustration and glared at her reflection. It was then she noticed the other girl.

She was very skinny- unnaturally so-with leathery skin and pale eyes sunken into her skull. Her hair fell in short greasy strands, and she looked obnoxiously happy. Her cracked lips parted into a smile, exposing yellowed teeth and a wave of bitter breath.

Gwen smiled back, trying to understand what was going on. The other girl took a step towards her, a bony hand swiftly reaching up and grasping Gwen's chin. As weak as she looked, the girl had strong hands. Her bony fingers dug into Gwen's chin as she yanked her forward, looking curiously at her. She moved Gwen's head roughly from side to side before laughing- a sickly sound.

"I found you!" the other girl exclaimed, not releasing her grip. If anything, her hand squeezed Gwen tighter; causing her to lose feeling around her mouth.

"Excuse me?" Gwen asked, her teeth pressed together; she had decided trying to use her jaw would result in bad things, like a broken bone or spontaneous combustion (perhaps she was overreacting).

The other girl ignored her, choosing instead to mumble to herself, "Oh, Master will be proud; very proud indeed. I found him a prize! What a prize! A new pet; a good pet."

"I am no pet!" Gwen announced; offended. The other girl's face flashed with fury and Gwen felt a leathery hand slap her cheek. Gwen felt the other girl's fingernails scratch her, leaving long, angry marks in their absence.

"Silence, girl! Syla is speaking! Master will not like his prized pet to be so chatty. 'Haps I ought to cut it's tongue out?" Syla hissed, drops of spit landing on Gwen's cheek. Gwen felt her stomach drop to her toes. All she had wanted was to get out of Algebra for a few minutes! Now she was going to get her tongue cut out by a psychopath and sent to some 'Master' to be a pet? She silently promised God that she would never again ditch class unnecessarily, so long as she got away alive and in one piece.

Syla pulled a piece of rope from the leather pouch attached to her hip; her fingers still wrapped around Gwen's chin like a vise. This crazy lady was going to tie her up? No way. Syla shoved Gwen against the sink, hard, and shook out the rope with her one available hand.

It all happened in a second; Syla was momentarily distracted while she tried to one-handedly tie Gwen up. Seeing the golden opportunity, Gwen quickly brought her knee to Syla's stomach. The other girl doubled over in pain, and Gwen took the risk of punching her. Syla cried out and stumbled back to the stalls, running into one of the doors. Her hand fumbled to find her pouch. Gwen kicked her shin and snatched the pouch (easily; it was tied to her waist by a piece of string). She ran towards the bathroom door, her heart racing.

Something sharp wrapped around her shoulders and yanked her back. Gwen's hands shot to them, and she screamed when she felt something that definitely WASN'T fingers digging into her flesh. Talons, sharp as nails, were clasped onto her, dragging her back. Gwen screamed, her hands frantically reaching at the sinks, the mirrors; anything that might keep her from being dragged away. Her back smacked against the wall, and she felt herself slowly begin to slide up. She looked at Syla, and saw massive, leathery-skinned wings extending from the other girl's back. Syla was going to carry her out of the bathroom window just below the ceiling.

Gwen's hands fumbled with the pouch, trying to find something inside of it that might potentially help her escape from the crazy loon. Her hands wrapped around something cold and sharp. Not bothering to see what it was, she pulled it out and stabbed one of the talons. Syla screeched and the foot let go of her. Gwen sunk back down; her weight being too much for Syla's one foot alone. Gwen didn't think twice about stabbing the other foot, and in an instant she was on the floor. She scrambled up and looked back, seeing Syla in a heap on the tile, blood so dark it was almost black flowing in a steady stream down her feet. Already, though, Syla was attempting to stand back up.

Gwen turned and ran out of the bathroom, shoving the sharp, metal object into the pouch. She didn't notice the small cuts in her shoulders from where the object had pierced through; all she cared about was getting back to class, where she would hopefully be safe.

Halfway down the hall she heard a hiss, "You can't hide from us now, girl! We know who you are!"

Gwen didn't look back; she refused. Instead she ran into Algebra and practically jumped into her seat, somehow reasoning that she wouldn't be caught while she was at her desk. Her teacher and all of her classmates looked at her with confusion. Her teacher did not look amused.

She quickly tried to come up with a plausible excuse. Unable to find one, she spat out the first thing that came to mind, "The, uh, hallway smelled terrible, and I fell. Twice."

* * *

_Hello, beautifuls!_

_Here is chapter three! I hope you all like it. I know the beginning is a little slow and boring, but I hope you agree with me when I say it definitely gets better! Ive been toying with the bathroom scene since pretty much the last time I posted, and so it had a little over a week to develop. I find it easier to write when I can clearly see what it is I'm writing about. _

_Anywho, I hope you liked it, and if you did: review! If you didn't: review telling me why! I try my best to answer any and all reviews I get with questions/criticisms/etc, so if that helps you make the decision to review, then that's pretty awesome! _

_Okay,_

_Hugs and Butterfly Kisses!_

_Little.D._


	4. Time to Pack

Murray closed the blinds and double-checked the locks on the doors. Satisfied, he walked back to where a pallid and panicked Gwen sat rigidly on the old, orange sofa.

"Tell me again exactly what you saw." he asked, his wrinkled hands fiddling with the strap on his messenger bag.

"I was just trying to get out of class for a little while, and when I was in the restroom, she attacked me!" Gwen's eyes locked on to Murray's, fearful tears threatening to jump from them. Murray nodded and sat next to Gwen, watching her carefully.

"Would you describe this girl for me again?"

"She was skinny, yet unbelievably strong, and she looked sick. Instead of feet, she had talons, and she had wings- actual, real, totally _not_ imaginary wings! She kept saying something about a Master, and how they found me? I don't know, Murray. It all happened so fast!"

"I know." Murray looked at her sympathetically.

"Am I crazy?"

Murray studied her a long moment before sighing. "No, Gwen, you are not crazy. You are far from it, actually. "

"Then how do you explain what happened? It couldn't have been real, could it?"

"I can assure you that it did indeed happen, and it will most likely happen again."

"What?" Gwen's eyes widened in horror.

"We have to leave." To emphasize what he was saying, he stood up and walked to his room.

"Excuse me? What do you mean it will happen again? How are you not freaking out right now? Why have you not sent me away to a mental hospital or sentenced me to a week of bed rest at _least_?" Gwen stood up, gaping at Murray's back as he proceeded to open a small closet in his room, yanking out an old trunk. She followed him and stood in the doorway, her hands holding each side of the frame.

"Gwen, I need you to pack some food for me." he said, wiping dust from the trunk with his arm; he avoided making eye contact with her.

"You're serious, aren't you? We have to leave?" She was quieter now; somehow her exasperated frustration had dulled itself to a confused curiosity. Murray answered by keeping silent and opening the trunk. Gwen frowned and walked to the pantry, deciding non-perishables would probably be the best answer to the question 'Which foods should she pack?'. Upon seeing this, Murray stopped her.

"Pack whatever-it won't go bad." he called, stopping his search through the old trunk.

"So we're staying nearby, then?"

"Possibly."

"Do you even know where you're going?"

"We just have to leave for a while; we need to blend in again."

"Again? I'm pretty sure we never blended in in the first place, Murray."

"Just trust me, Gwen. I need you to trust me." Murray went back to digging through his trunk, signaling the end of the conversation. Gwen grabbed anything and everything she could, throwing it into her backpack (she figured if they were leaving, she probably wasn't going to be at school anymore).

She heard grunting followed by a loud _thump_, and quickly turned to see Murray with a leather-bound book in his lap, and a cloud of dust floating around him in the air. He swatted at it and carefully opened the front cover of the book; he was treating it as if it were gold. A strange emotion crossed his face that Gwen couldn't quite place. She decided she'd packed enough food and carried it over to him.

"What is that?" she asked.

"We don't have time for any more questions, I'm afraid; who knows when they'll start looking for you again."

Gwen studied Murray's face, but it was an impenetrable mask. "Do you know who they are?"

"No."

"Then why are you acting like you do?"

"When it comes to this, I am one-hundred percent sure I know more than you, Guinevere."

"It's just Gwen; you know that."

Murray's hands, which had been tenderly flipping through the pages of the book, froze. His head shot up, and he stared at her for a moment.

"Yes, of course." Murray blinked a few times, shaking his head, "What was I thinking?"

He went back to cradling the book. Stealthily, Gwen tried to peek at the book's contents, but before she could, Murray closed the book and stuck it carefully into his messenger bag.

"Only pack one change of clothing; we can hand wash it every other day if we get too dirty." Murray stated, pushing himself to a standing position-joints aching and limbs screaming. He certainly wasn't as young as he used to be. Gwen simply stood in the doorway, staring at him blankly.

"Well? Get packing." Murray pushed.

"I'm still not entirely sure why we have to leave. I mean, I understand that whoever it was that sent Syla after me will probably try something again, but they can't know where we live, right? I mean, they found me at school, not here, and I'm still not convinced I'm sane, but if you say I am, then I suppose I trust you."

"I'd hope you would more than 'suppose' you trust me, Gwen." Murray frowned.

"This is all so insane, though! I feel like I'm about to become one of those legends you're always telling me about!"

Murray's jaw tightened. "Gwen."

"What?"

"Gwen, they're not legends."

"Excuse me?"

"The 'legends' of King Arthur, the Once and Future King, are true-actual; real; totally _not_ imaginary- and that puts you in a lot of danger."

* * *

_Hey! _

_I'm so sorry I haven't posted in a while. I'm supposed to be getting a new computer for my birthday, which is coming up pretty soon here, so my original plan had been to wait until then to add more to the story (a terrible idea, really, considering it was in April that I last posted). However, I got a bug up my booty to write this chapter, and although it's short, I figured that might be alright with you guys? _

_I'm going to try really hard to keep this story going; I have a lot of faith in it (plus it gives me an excuse to re-watch Merlin on Netflix.) _

_I hope you all enjoy this chapter, and for those of you who are on summer vacation at the moment, I hope you enjoy it! _

_As always, reviews are welcomes with open arms, along with any questions, concerns, or constructive criticisms you may have. _

_Hugs and Butterfly Kisses, _

_Little.D._


End file.
